


No Place I'd Rather Be

by FelixFelicis97



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Hogwarts in Winter, I mean who doesn't love a seekers game in the snow, M/M, Pining Draco Malfoy, Pining Harry, Seeker Game, Seekers, Snow, Winter, eight year, snitch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 18:59:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13441197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelixFelicis97/pseuds/FelixFelicis97
Summary: There really wasn’t a place Harry would rather be at the moment.Because, really, what better place than in the middle of a Seekers Game with the most gorgeous blonde he ever met?Well, maybe he'll find out.





	No Place I'd Rather Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tealeaves_bookpages](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealeaves_bookpages/gifts).



There really wasn’t a place Harry would rather be at the moment.

He could barely feel the tip of his fingers, holding his broom in place, his black hair was even more wild than usual, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold that surrounded the Hogwarts’ grounds as their holidays were coming to an end. And yet, Harry couldn’t quite keep the goofy grin plastered on his face as he hovered above the Forbidden Forest, eyes absently searching for the Golden Snitch. He also couldn’t decide whether the flush painting his cheeks was due to the low temperature of the winter afternoon, or the presence of the handsome boy that flew lazily a few meters in front of him.

Harry and Draco had been searching for the little golden ball for over an hour now, and the Gryffindor was more than happy if said ball took another two hours to show up. Don’t get him wrong, he was going to win their Seeker game, just like he had the one before, although Draco had managed to grab the Snitch in the game before that one. In Harry’s defence, he was distracted by other shinning things. Silver ones. Draco’s eyes, actually. But he had promised himself he would win their next games, even when he didn’t want them to end, just so he could stay and watch the Slytherin. Besides their daily walks, late night talks and common room chess games (where Harry would give up and let Ron play against Draco), Seeker games with the blonde were his favourite time of the week. Draco was usually so focused on finding the Snitch, or just enjoying the freedom of flying, that Harry was left free to watch the boy as long and intently as he wanted

Every time he did so, he would once again be stunned by how beautiful Draco was. In the soft light of the afternoon, Draco’s skin always seemed even more silkier, inducing an itch in Harry’s fingers with the desire to touch every millimetre of it. When sometimes the Sun appeared, for only a few seconds, from behind the dense clouds, the blonde strands that framed Draco’s face would acquire a platinum colour, and Harry always found himself wondering what it would be like to fall asleep with those strands gently tickling his nose. The lips that invaded his dreams every night seemed even more kissable up there, if that was possible, as Draco continuously ran the tip of his tongue to wet them because of the sharp wind that insisted in drying and giving them a soft red shade. It was the grey eyes, though, that Harry loved the most when they flew. It had nothing to do with the light, the temperature or any physical phenomenon. Harry fell in love with those eyes again and again because of the emotion that always filled them. Only when Draco was flying, careless to the world below him, would he be overwhelmed enough to let his Malfoy mask down and let himself show each feeling he ever had nurturing in his heart. Sometimes he saw mourning, for what Draco had lost in the war, sometimes he saw hope, and Harry knew Draco believed he could have a better life now. Sometimes it was a whole myriad of feelings, all twisted and intertwined in each other but all intense and real. In those days Harry could always see happiness, ecstasy, determination, and the need to just run away for a little. And some days, sometimes, Harry almost let himself believe he had seen love in those silver eyes when Draco looked at him, a grin plastered on his face and the wind tousling his blonde hair. However, the Gryffindor never let himself dwell on it, realising late at night, alone in his bed, that whatever he thought he saw in those stormy eyes was only his mind trying to see a reflection of his own feelings.

Because, really, why would Draco Malfoy love him anyway?

Harry was shaken out of his reverie as a white snowflake landed on his cheek, the cold remembering him where he was. He looked up, as hundreds of snowflakes slowly fell from the sky, and a few of them wetted his glasses. He quickly casted an _Impervius_ before suddenly realizing he should have been looking for the Snitch this whole time.

That was, before his eyes found Draco. Because then, all thoughts of Snitches and winning seeker games were swiped out of his mind. The Gryffindor would have believed the scene in front of him was a movie, if it wasn’t for the cold air caressing his skin. Although it had been chilly day, and it was now snowing, there wasn’t any wind outside. Which just made it even harder to not fall in love with the moment, really.

Perfectly white snowflakes were falling around Draco, so slowly that it almost looked like they were floating on air. The boy had his head slightly tilted, staring at the sky just as Harry had done a few moments before, and the strands that usually framed his face were pushed back, giving Harry unlimited access to the boy’s profile. He was sure that if he looked down, he would see the forest trees covered in a white blanket, but Harry couldn’t take his eyes away from Draco, or the tiny snowflakes captures in his blonde hair, or the way his mouth was slightly open as if the Slytherin was experiencing snow for the first time, or how his nose moved lightly when a snowflake landed on it. Or the complete delight that filled the grey eyes, it’s colour enhanced by the snow around them.

It was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen, and he would cherish the image of Draco surrounded by thousands of white snowflakes forever in his mind and heart. There was really no place he would rather be now. He was utterly and stupidly in love with Draco Malfoy.

Harry willed his eyes to move away from the Slytherin when the boy turned his head in his direction. Now that he wasn’t staring at what he believed to be the eight wonder in the world, the dark-haired boy could focus on how extremely fucked he was. Every day it got harder to hide how much he fancied Draco, and now he was almost caught gazing at him! How was he supposed to hide it any longer?

Lost in his thoughts, Harry didn’t realize the reason for his fears was hovering right next to him, watching him worriedly.

“Are you ok, Harry?”

Distracted as he was, the Gryffindor jolted, almost falling of his broom when he realized how close Draco was. A hand immediately clutched his arm, restoring his balance and keeping him from falling to his death. It would have been interesting to see what the Prophet would write about it, though. Harry could already see Skitter glowing.

Draco was still holding him, even after he had managed to get a firm grip on his broom once more, and Harry was _absolutely not thinking_ in how good it felt to have the blonde touching him, even through his clothes. Draco only let go of him ( _No, Harry, his hand did not linger in your arm, stop imagining things)_ once he made sure Harry was stable enough to not suffer a terrible death, stabbed by a branch or something like that.

At the criticizing arched eyebrow Draco shot him, Harry cleared his throat, trying to remember what the boy asked him.

“Yes, of course. Why?” The dark-haired boy asked once his brain started to cope with him.

“You seem awfully distracted today. More than usual I mean.”

“Just thinking.” Harry dismissed, already wanting to change the course of their conversation.

“Hm.” Draco hummed non-committedly, and Harry knew the boy hadn’t believed him for a second. Thankfully, he chose not to dwell on it.  “Do you think we should go inside?”

 _That_ was the last thing Harry wanted to do. He wanted to stay there with Draco, the snow and the dreams of what it could be but never would.

“Why?” He asked confused

“It’s snowing.” Draco answered pointedly, as if Harry was as dumb as a gnome.

The Gryffindor had to find a way to convince Draco to stay. Just a little while longer. He wasn’t ready to go yet.

“What, Malfoy? Scared you’ll lose this game?”

“You wish, Potter.” A flash of defiance passed his eyes and he smirked. “Besides, I’m not the one who almost fell of his broom.”

A blush painted Harry’s cheeks, but he stood his ground.

“I’m going to catch that Snitch, Malfoy.”

“We’ll see about that, Potter.”

After ten more minutes of unsuccessfully looking for the Snitch (or at least, Draco _was_ looking for it. Harry was again looking at something else) they gave up on actually trying to find it near the Forbidden Forest and headed to the Quidditch Pitch.

“Maybe it has flown there.” Draco had suggested.

However, it seemed they were out of luck, as the Snitch was still nowhere to be seen. Tired of just waiting (ok, and maybe he missed Draco’s voice already), Harry decided to try and make some conversation. They were both hovering in the middle of the pitch, side by side, when he asked:

“How did it go with McGonagall yesterday?”

“Hm…” Draco hummed, eyes not meeting Harry’s, although a little frown marked his features.

Harry just waited. He had learned that, if he stood silent, Draco would spill everything, even when he didn’t intend to.

“She offered me a job as Potions teacher. I would help Slughorn for the next 2 years or so and then take his place.” The blonde admitted after some minutes, still not looking at Harry.

“Are you going to take it?”

“I don’t know yet.” He answered quietly, frown still in place. “What about you? Have you decided what to do? Is it going to be Auror or DADA Teacher to you?”

Harry had been struggling with that decision for a while now. He still had a few more months until he had to choose, but it frightened him the fact that he was now so divided in something that he had once been so sure. Although he had always wanted to be an Auror, and he knew he would be a good one, once McGonagall had suggested he stay and teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, the idea hadn’t left, always nagging him from somewhere in the back of his mind. A future in Hogwarts, teaching kids like he had been once, wasn’t a bad thought at all. Besides, he had enjoyed teaching in Dumbledore’s Army more then he should have.

“I don’t know yet. Both are extremely appealing, and I really have no idea what to do.” He settled.

Draco just stared at him for a long moment before speaking again.

“I think I might accept McGonagall’s offer. It’s not like anyone else is going to offer a job to an ex-Death Eater.”

“You had no choice.” Harry defended immediately.

“Others won’t care about that like you do, Harry.”

He would never know if it was the image of Draco slightly covered in white snow or the lost look in his eyes, but suddenly Harry found himself unable to contain the words that spilled from his mouth.

“You’re making my decision pretty easy to make then.”

Draco’s eyes snapped to him and bulged, his mouth openning slightly in shock.

“What… What d-do you mean?” The Slytherin stuttered.

There was nothing to stop Harry now. He had already said the truth so there was no point anyway.

“I would stay whatever you were for the rest of my life if that meant I could be with you every day of my life.”

Years ago, Harry would have given almost everything to rend Draco speechless. Now, all the wanted was for him to say something. Anything at all. He knew the blonde would never feel the same, but Harry could only hope Draco wouldn’t distance himself from him because of his confession.

Harry was about to plead Draco to say something when suddenly, a gold movement near the ground captured his attention and he snapped his head, body instantly tense and ready to turn his broom. He knew Draco had saw it too the moment the boy gripped his broom harder and his eyes focused on the Snitch, the previous incredibility in them now completely absent.

And then, there was nothing between them except for the rush in their veins and the need to win. It was just like their former years and more. No matter how friends they were now, the competition was always there, just beneath the surface of their blood and ready to shoot adrenaline through them at the thought of once more catching the golden ball in their fingers before the other did.

They both angled their brooms down and the next thing they knew, they were both side to side, testing the speed of their brooms and only the thought of winning in their minds. The Snitch was so close to the ground Harry could almost fell the grass tickling his knees as he fully laid on his broom, willing it to go faster than ever. He was close to the golden ball, but so was the Slytherin. Harry didn’t dare to turn his head, but he could feel the other boy at his left, leaning more on the broom and gaining speed. But Harry was _not_ going to lose.

He extended his arm and just as he was about to catch the snitch, he saw Draco from the corner of his eyes doing the same. Except, Draco’s finger didn’t curl around the Snitch.

They intertwined with Harry’s.

The last thing Harry felt before losing his balance was the cold metal of the Snitch trapped in his hand, before he and Draco were rolling on the grass. They finally stop with a low huff, Draco on top of Harry, and hands still clutched together. When Harry finally opens his eyes, Draco is staring into them, and Harry suddenly can’t breathe because Draco is, _oh god,_ so close he can even see the snowflakes in Draco’s eyelashes. Remember when Harry thought he had never seen something more beautiful that Draco surrounded in snow, just some moments ago? Yeah, scratch that.

“Did you really mean what you said?” The blonde asked, breathlessly, his intense gaze not faltering for even a second.

Harry was still trying to relearn how to breath as he stared at the emotion in the silver eyes. Somehow, he managed to choke out the truth, still without any air in his lungs.

“I’ve been in love with you since the start of this year. Even before maybe, although I didn’t realize it until we started talking more.”

He waited for Draco to pull away and run. To leave him there because it was all too much.

Instead, cold lips met his and Harry couldn’t pinpoint a moment where something had ever felt so perfect and right. He had always believed romances were cliché whenever someone described the first kiss as better than they ever dreamed, and now he knew why, because Draco’s lips were soft against his, the blonde’s hands were gently cupping his face and Harry didn’t care about the times he had dreamt about it. It was real and that’s all that mattered.

The Gryffindor didn’t waist a second more before fully returning the kiss, hands mindlessly clutching Draco’s waist as he opened his mouth just enough to let the tip of his tongue run over the boy’s bottom lip. Without a moment of hesitation, Draco parted his lips as well and their tongues tangled, moving together in a dance only they knew.

All too soon however, the blonde leaned back, breaking their kiss and slapping Harry’s chest.

“Ouch! What was that for?” He asked, although he had barely felt anything at all. Surely, he didn’t kiss that badly.

“You fucking git, why couldn’t you say it sooner? I’ve been pining over you for as long as I can remember and you’re telling me this _now_?” Even though his voice was harsh, the grin perpetually plastered on his face told Harry how he couldn’t have chosen a better moment. “Uh, I should leave just to teach you a lesson.”

Harry didn’t even fight the low chuckle that bubbled up from inside him, a huge smile matching Draco’s own.

“Why? Is there a place you’d rather be?”

“You mean, besides on top of frozen grass, not able to feel the tips of my fingers and yet again, defeated by some gorgeous seeker?”

“You’re on top of me, not the grass.”

“Hm, fair point. There’s really no place I’d rather be, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot, and if you did I would really appreciate if you left some kudos and a comment!  
> Also, come say hi in my Tumblr https://www.tumblr.com/blog/the-nerd-book-reader ;)  
> Thank you for reading <3


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